Lightning
by efficacious humorosity
Summary: Jumper fic. Griffin finds another Jumper. Or rather, another Jumper finds Griffin. Not only is she a Jumper, but she's the fastest and most talented Jumper around. He's always been a loner, but will this female Jumper change his mind about things? GxOC
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Don't own, don't sue

**A/N: Don't own, don't sue. This is my first Jumper fic. Actually, this is my first fic for something other than a book. Please read and review. Enjoy. **

Chapter 1

"He has no idea."

Rane Anderson sat atop one of the tallest skyscrapers on Tokyo, watching a fellow Jumper jump through the streets of the large city. She shook her head, reaching for the elastic hair tie on her wrist. She tied her long black hair back into a ponytail, a few loose bangs falling into her blue eyes. He really had no idea that she was watching him.

Sighing, she screwed her eyes shut, concentrating on the spot a few yards ahead of him. Almost instantly, she was there, and he was just a few steps behind her. Turning to face him, she sighed, "A ninja you're not."

He looked at her, his mouth a perfect 'o' in his shock. Then his mouth twisted into a scowl. "What the bloody hell are you talking about?"

A Brit, eh? She cocked a grin, before jumping quickly to her home in the Philippines, confident that he would follow her.

Sure enough, he soon stumbled through the jump scar, looking extremely pissed off. "What the bloody hell is this all about, eh?" he demanded, his hands clenching into fists.

"Chill out, man," she chuckled, going through her fridge and tossing him a can of mango juice. "I can understand why you'd be paranoid though. You stick out like a sore thumb."

"Me?" he asked, opening the can of juice and laughing mirthlessly. "_I _still out like a sore thumb? You haven't met half the Jumpers I have, otherwise you'd know that I am about as subtle as they come."

"Apparently not," she retorted. "Otherwise, you would've noticed that I've been following you for the past two days."

"The past two days, huh?" he said, smirking and taking a swig of the mango juice. Smacking his lips, he said, "This juice is quite good, by the way."

"Thanks," she said, offering him a half-grin. "It's hand-squeezed."

"Bullshit," he said, grinning cockily at her.

"What, you don't believe the juice is hand-squeezed?" she said, sounding as if she were challenging him.

"No, no, I believe that," he said, waving his hands in front of him, the juice in the can sloshing around, "I can taste the fiber. But what if I don't believe you've been following me for the last two days?"

"Let's see… let's start with Paris on Monday morning," she said, grinning just as cockily as he was. "Then you jumped to Dubai- nice choice by the way. Then to Florida, and you stayed there until Tuesday morning, when you jumped to London. Then you jumped to China, where you had lunch, and then to Germany. You stayed there until this morning, when you jumped to Tokyo. That's when I finally confronted you."

His brows furrowed together as he set the now empty can down on the coffee table nearby. "That," he said slowly, as if choosing his words carefully, "is extremely stalkerish. You're intriguing."

"Actually, I'm Rane," she said, extending her hand for him to shake.

"I'm Griffin," he countered, shaking it.

Instead of releasing his hand after a few moments, she held onto it, screwing her eyes up in concentration. Using her free hand, she opened a new jump scar in thin air. Griffin gaped at her. "How the bloody hell did you do that?"

"You've got to go, Griffin," she told him, pulling him towards the jump scar.

"What? Why?" he protested. In all honesty, she was the most interesting person he had met in his entire life, and he wanted nothing more than to stay with her and learn more about her. Funny, the one person he wanted to be around was the one person shoving him away.

"You don't want to be around me, Griffin," she told him grimly, shoving him into the jump scar. However, he held onto her hand. Chuckling, she added, "Let go of me."

"Why?" he asked, looking at her intently. "Don't you want to learn more about other Jumpers?"

"Not if I want you to live, I don't," she told him, firmly prying his hand from hers. "Those who stick around with me don't tend to survive long." With that, she pried his last finger off of her and he was sucked into the jump scar to Canada.

She sighed, slumping down onto her couch and flipping on the television. She hadn't particularly wanted to make him leave, not this Jumper.

There was something different about him, something different than the other Jumpers, something that made him like her. He hadn't had everything in life handed to him, like he had fought some pretty tough battles of his own and others' battles as well. She sighed again, knowing that it was for her own good.

She was responsible for the death of four Jumpers so far, she wouldn't be responsible for a fifth.

LLLLLLLLLLLLLL

"Two bloody weeks," Griffin growled, jumping to Egypt. "Two bloody weeks."

It had been two weeks since the day he met Rane, and he had spent every moment since she jumped him out of her home looking for her and he had yet to find her. How could one Jumper be so hard to find? He had visited her apartment in the capital of the Philippines, Manila, several times, then the landlord finally told him that she moved out about two weeks ago. N

Now he was walking through the streets of Manila, trying to decide where to look for her next. There had been no pictures of faraway lands in her apartment, so he had no idea what her jump sites were. In short, he was screwed.

"Griffin?" a voice called, interrupting his concentration.

"What the bloody hell do you want?" he growled, turning around to face the speaker.

It was Rane.

"Wow, bad moment?" she asked, taking her sunglasses off and looking at him in amusement, her blue eyes sparkling with laughter.

"I'm sorry, Rane," he said, feeling sheepish. "I was just wondering how the bloody hell I was going to find you."

"Why are you so intent on finding me?" she asked, cocking her head at him. "I heard from your friend David that you 'don't play well with others'."

"Oh, so you talked to the dumbass, did you?" he said, chuckling. "First of all, he's not my friend, he's more of a pain in my ass. Second of all, that's true."

"So why do you want to spend time with me?" she asked, her gaze intensifying.

"I don't know, honestly," he said, shrugging and staring determinedly at his shoes. "There's something different about you. Something like me. Like you lost your innocence a long time ago." He glanced up at her as he said this, just in time to see a strained expression cross her face.

"You're right," she sighed, running a hand through her hair. "You and I have that in common. We've made sacrifices bigger than the others could even imagine."

"Right," he said, nodding his head. He stepped closer to her, feeling the air crackled with the tension, and gently fingered a scar on her cheek that he hadn't noticed the last time he had seen her. "I'm assuming we both fight Paladins?"

She nodded. "You're correct, Griffin." Sighing, she said, "You better leave if you want to live. No matter how strong my partner is, Roland always finds us. He always kills my partner."

"Is that what you're so worried about?" he asked, chuckling, still invading her personal bubble. There was something almost magnetic about her that drew him to her, almost as if he couldn't help himself.

"I've already got the blood of four Jumpers on my hands, and I won't have you be the fifth," she said angrily, pulling herself away from him. "Leave, Griffin."

"I know I'm kind of small and scrawny-looking, but I can handle myself," he said softly. She snorted and started walking away. "Come on, Rane, it can't be fun living alone. I would know. Just give me a chance." She froze in her tracks, but still didn't turn around to face him. "Just let me take you out for dinner. One dinner, and let me stick with you. That's all I'm asking." Chuckling, he added, "Don't think I'm going soft on you, but I don't wanna be alone anymore."

After a few moments of silence, he was ready to walk away and give up. But just as he sighed and prepared to do so, she turned around and smiled.

"All right, Griffin."

LLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL

"Sorry, but I feel the need to ask, is Rane your real name?" he asked over dumplings in China.

Chuckling, she replied, "Don't worry, Griffin, I don't blame you for wondering. Yeah, Rane's my real name, as paranoid as I am. But Roland, who doesn't know my real name, calls me Lightning."

"And why is that?" he asked, grinning crookedly.

"Because I'm apparently the fastest Jumper he's ever seen," she snorted, taking a sip of her Diet Coke, "and according to him, the most talented. I don't think that's a compliment coming from him."

"Well you're probably the fastest and most talented Jumper _I've_ ever seen," he told her honestly. "And I've seen a lot of them."

"Well, thanks," she said, blushing faintly at his praise. "When was your first jump?"

"I was five," he replied. Then he began to chuckle at the memory. "I was terrified of neighborhood dogs, and one of them was chasing me down the street. Quite vicious."

"Pit bull? Rottweiler? Doberman?" she suggested.

"No," he corrected, "Chihuahua."

"Oh, wow," she barely managed to choke out through her laughter.

"And I just… jumped into my room," he said, shrugging. Tracing the rim of his glass of water with his index finger, he added, "Roland showed up soon after that, and he killed both my parents."

"I'm so sorry," she said, frowning sympathetically at him over the table.

Chuckling, he admitted, "I've never told that to anyone before. What about you? What's your story?"

"Just because I let you take me out to dinner in China doesn't mean I'm going to bare my soul to you right here, right now," she told him gravely.

He looked taken aback, but said nothing otherwise. "All right then, fair enough," he said. "But just know, I'll get your story out of you one day."

LLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL

One day turned out to be about a week later. After she moved out from her apartment in Manila, Rane had bought an apartment on another island of the Philippines, called Cebu. Griffin had been sleeping on the couch in the living room the whole week, and though they weren't entirely uncomfortable with each other, things were still slightly awkward between them. She had accidentally left the bathroom door unlocked one day, and he walked in on her taking a shower, a very awkward (though pleasing) sight.

That particularly night, Griffin was having trouble sleeping, so he was fully alert when he heard her shuffle through the living room to the kitchen, sniffling. He pretended to be asleep, unsure of whether she wanted to be alone or not, for she sounded like she was _crying_. He saw the light turn on in the kitchen and heard her rummaging around. After a few minutes, he heard the sound of a mug being set down on the kitchen table, and he heard her sniffling again.

Finally, he decided that he had enough of listening to her cry and got up from his position on the couch. "Oh," she said, seeing that he was standing up and making his way toward her, "you're awake."

"Yeah," he said, shrugging as he sat down and taking in the sight of her. Her black hair still showed signs of sleep, and her blue eyes were red and bloodshot. She still had a few tears streaming down her face. "Are you… okay?" he asked awkwardly, twiddling his thumbs.

"Yeah," she said, shrugging as well. "Nightmares."

"Oh," he said mildly. "Can I ask of what?"

She sucked in a deep breath. "Reliving losing my little brother," she replied. So she had lost her little brother in this war. Griffin resisted the urge to shake his head. "Reliving the loss of my other four partners." She looked up, meeting his gaze with a static shock. "Dreaming about losing you."

He didn't know what to say to that, so he was glad when she broke the silence again. "Do you still want to hear the story of my first jump?" she asked.

"Sure," he replied, nodding.

"I was fifteen," she said slowly, staring down into her mug of milk. "This… jock had just asked me out, and I refused. I told him that he wasn't my type. He seemed pretty pissed off, but I ignored him. He cornered me in the parking lot that afternoon, and I was alone. He took me by surprise, slamming me up against his car and threatening to kill my friends if I even thought of fighting back. He had me naked within minutes, and so was he." She met Griffin's eyes at this point, to see how he was taking it. His face was contorted into a mask of rage, his eyes crackling with anger. "Right before he… took my virginity, I jumped. I was so shocked, and I had jumped straight into the principal's office. She was shocked, to say the least, but I told her my story, and got the jock kicked out of the school and sent to military to school. Soon after, I ran away from home with my ten-year old brother. Our parents were abusive." She stopped abruptly, though she had sounded like she was going to tell the story of her brother's death.

"I'm sorry, Rane," he finally managed to mutter. "You didn't have to tell me."

"I know," she said, starting to cry again, "but I wanted to."

He sat there for a few more moments, watching her cry, but then he moved to the seat next to hers. Hesitantly, he wrapped an arm around her, soothing her.

It was the best decision he ever made in his life.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Don't own, don't sue

**A/N: Don't own, don't sue. Reviews are much appreciated!**

Chapter 2

"Wakey, wakey, eggs and bakey!"

Rane's cheerful voice chirped in Griffin's ear as he stirred on the couch in her living room, his eyes fluttering open. He raised a hand to shield his eyes from the sunlight streaming in through the large living room window. "What the bloody hell did you wake me up for, Rane?" he grumbled, propping himself up on one elbow and glaring at her half-heartedly.

"I'm being serious here, Griffin," she told him, staring down at him in amusement. "I made eggs and bacon. If you want some, you better get the hell off your ass."

Grinning up at her, he slowly sat up, yawning and stretching dramatically. "It better not be before ten o'clock, or I'm going to kill you," he told her, flashing her a grin to assure her that it was all in jest.

"Actually, it's three in the afternoon," she told him, heading for the kitchen to fix their plates.

"Bullshit," he called back, gaping at her retreating form in disbelief.

"Turn on the television," she replied in a taunting voice. Grumbling doubtfully, he found the remote under one of the couch's cushions and pressed the power button. Some shitty soap opera was on in a language he didn't understand, probably Tagalog, which was the main dialect of the Philippines. About two weeks into his stay with her, she explained her attraction to the Philippines to him. Her mother had been Filipino, and Rane had been on vacations to the Philippines many times. All the citizens spoke English fluently, and Rane could more or less understand Tagalog, though she wasn't fluent in it. Sighing and running a hand through his hair, he flipped through the channels until he found a news station. Though he couldn't understand a word of what the anchor was saying, the digital time display on the bottom left corner of the screen read 3:11 p.m.

"Why didn't you wake me up earlier?" he asked, feeling his head begin to pound. Groaning, he realized he was hung over and wondered what the hell he had been up to the previous night.

"Well, you didn't stumble in here until about three this morning," she said, smirking as she reentered the living room. She was holding two plates in her hands, both piled with eggs and bacon. She handed him one of the plates and set hers on the coffee table in front of the couch, jumping quickly to the kitchen to grab forks for them before jumping back. "I figured you could use the sleep."

"Any idea what I was up to last night?" he asked curiously, taking a bite off of a strip of bacon. Damn, it was good.

"I'm not sure, but you smelled like a damn bar," she said, rolling her blue eyes at him. "And you muttered something about China. Actually, now that I think of it, your breath smelled like hot sake. So I'm guessing China. Glad you had enough sense to jump back here _before _you passed out."

"Wait, how did you what my breath smelled like?" he asked, looking sideways at her curiously.

Chuckling, she replied, "Because you refused to shut up until I tucked you in."

He flushed a deep red color. "I made you tuck me in?"

"Sure did," she said, nodding her head and forking egg into her mouth. "Like a homesick child."

He turned away, sure that he was blushing even more furiously now. God, he hated the things he did when he was drunk, because they usually gave away things he was trying his best to keep hidden. Desperate to change the subject, he asked, "Why'd you make breakfast at three in the afternoon?"

"Because I can," she retorted, sticking her tongue out at him.

"Oh, that's mature," he snorted. Then he moaned, as his head pounded particularly painfully.

"Hangover?" she asked, a knowing grin plastered over her face.

"Shut the bloody hell up," he growled. "You're way too cheerful for my liking right now."

Rolling her eyes, she quickly jumped into the kitchen and he heard the sound of mugs rattling. She jumped back onto the couch next to him, and she handed him a mug of coffee. "It's fresh," she said, rolling her eyes at him. She knew of his refusal to drink instant coffee under any circumstances.

"Is this supposed to help my migraine?" he asked sarcastically, taking a sip of the steaming liquid in his mug.

"Yup," she nodded, her lips smacking on the 'p.' "You see, headaches are caused by the blood vessels in your head contracting, and caffeine makes them dilate."

"Freak," he muttered, taking another sip, grinning, "how do you know all this?"

"I always wanted to be a doctor," she shrugged.

"And what happened to that dream?" he asked. "You know you could have anything you want."

"That dream went down life's shitty toilet when Roland came after me and my little brother and killed him," she said, staring vacantly into her plate, pushing her eggs around. "When Roland started hunting me down… well, let's just say I dedicated my life to the two things I'm better at then medicine."

"And what are those two things?" he asked curiously, setting his mug down on the coffee table.

She looked at him, smiling sideways. "Jumping and kicking the shit out of Paladins."

"Speaking of which… there's been a strange lack of them the past month," he commented, naming the amount of time he had been with her.

"Yeah… it's highly suspicious," she mused, cocking her head to the side. Frowning, she said, "I'm… I'm going to go check on… something." She stood, smoothing her clothes out and looking as though she was thinking very hard about something.

"On what?" Griffin asked curiously, sensing that something was up. He stood, too, frowning back at her.

"On something, okay, Griff?" she said irritably, rubbing her temples like she had a headache as well. "God, get off my frigging back."

Griffin scowled, taken aback by her sudden snappiness. "What's got your knickers in a twist?"

"Just… I'll be back okay?" she said, turning to face him, still looking irritated. "Just stay here. Don't jump anywhere. Don't try to follow me, because, I swear to God, Griffin, I'll just shove you back here through a jump scar and when I get back, I'll kick you where the sun don't shine so hard, your voice will rise an octave."

He glared at her and scowled before settling himself onto the couch again. Without another word, she jumped, and she was gone.

LLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL

It was Rane's turn for a late night that day, because she didn't jump back into her apartment until four the following morning.

Griffin, who had fallen asleep in front of the television while waiting for her, woke up at the sound of her stumbling footsteps. He stood, watching her stumble with slight concern. "Rane?" he asked quietly, just in case she was drunk or hung over. "Are you drunk or something?

"No, just unbelievably tired," she muttered, tripping over the remote on the floor. She stumbled forward and he caught her up in his arms. She slumped against him, muttering, "I've been awake for a long time."

"Where the bloody hell did you go, Rane?" he asked, gently hauling her over to the couch.

She mumbled something that sounded like, "Piss off, Griffin."

Chuckling, he lowered her to the couch, saying, "Fine, I'll bother you when you wake up."

She muttered something completely incoherent and drifted off into a deep sleep.

Chuckling to himself now, Griffin settled himself onto the floor.

LLLLLLLLLLLL

When Griffin woke up, Rane was already awake, sitting on the couch in her pajamas, watching a soap opera. "Why are you watching this shit?" he asked irritably, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

She shrugged. "I don't know, I was bored," she said.

"What time is it?" he muttered, shielding his eyes from the sunlight like he had the day before.

"Eleven o'clock or so," she replied, shrugging again, her blue eyes trained on the television screen.

"You only slept for seven hours?" he asked.

"I wasn't hung over," she retorted, looking down at him and smirking. The smirk turned into a frown. "Why'd you sleep on the floor?"

"The couch was kind of occupied," he replied with a bark of laughter.

She shrugged again, then rolled her shoulders as she realized that she had shrugged three times in the past few minutes. "You could've slept on my bed."

It was his turn to shrug, as he said, "Wasn't sure if I'd be allowed." She rolled her eyes at him, but said nothing further on the subject. Finally, he asked, "So where the hell did you go yesterday?"

She sighed, and pressed the palms of her hands to her eyes, saying, "I was wondering when that question was going to come up." She sighed again and ran a hand through her hair, saying, "I went to New York."

"Why the bloody hell would you want to go to New York?"

"To check on Andrew and Christopher," she replied, avoiding contact.

"And… who are they?" he asked, looking at her curiously. He felt jealousy claw at the base of his spine. Why should he give a shit if she was checking on two men? Why the bloody hell did he care?

"They _were_ my best friends," she replied, finally meeting his gaze. Blue eyes met gray, and he felt a jolt of electricity run through him. It wasn't painful, like when the Paladins shocked them. It was… pleasant, and he liked the feeling, despite himself.

"Were as in… past tense?" he pressed on, urging her to tell him the whole truth.

"When I first ran away from home, I kept in touch with them, but I made them swear not to tell anyone where I was," she replied, staring at her lap now. "After Roland killed my brother, I knew I had to severe ties with them, otherwise, they'd be in danger too. So I destroyed all the evidence I had that I knew them. I stopped contacting them. They think I'm dead now." She squeezed her eyes shut, concentrating on happy thoughts.

But what did she know that was happy?

She had spent the past eight years on her own; her parents were abusive, her little brother was dead, and she had to abandon her best friends for their own good. She was lonely. She had no friends. She had no family.

_But I have Griffin_, she told herself, forcing herself to believe that his presence was permanent. All her other partners had died, because of her. _But something's different about Griff. I can feel it. I have Griffin_.

Meanwhile, Griffin was observing her carefully. Judging by the way her breathing was carefully measured and steady, he guessed that she was fighting the urge to cry again, like she had that one night. She was wringing her hands, a nervous habit of hers that he now recognized. He didn't know what to say; he had never been good with crying girls. Of course, he hadn't had much experience with them either. Sucking in a deep shaky breath, she looked up and continued, "I had to go check on them, because I know, I just know, that one day, Roland is going to find out about them, and he's going to go after them. And even though it'll be a trap, I'm going to go rescue them, because I'm not going to let my best friends die." She looked at him fiercely, almost as if needing his approval.

He nodded, feeling that it was the least he could do. "What took you so long?" he asked finally, his voice cracking on the last word.

"It took me forever to find them," she replied. "The last time I checked on them was about four years ago, which was the last time the Paladins went quiet like this. They were in college together then, the University of Chicago. Now they're sharing an apartment in New York."

"How _did_ you find them?" he asked curiously, cocking his head at her.

She smiled faintly, almost as if remembering something happy. "The two of them always loved New York, because they were Yankee fans. I figured it'd be a good place to look. Once I got there, I just checked for them in the phonebook. Found them easily enough. It just took me a while to remember… remember almost anything about them." She fell silent again, and he followed suit, deciding it was better not to ask anymore questions.

He was about to open his mouth, to make a lame attempt at saying something comforting, when the door was broken down. A familiar black man with white hair entered the apartment, smirking.

"Knock, knock."


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: I still don't own Jumper

**A/N: I still don't own Jumper. Thanks for all the reviews and please keep it up!! **

Chapter 3

"Ahhh, Lightning," Roland droned, forcing a smile onto his face. "We meet again. I was wondering when I was going to find you."

Rane carefully stood from her seated position on the couch, and Griffin stood from his seated position on the floor. Her hands were not clenched into fists, but she had one arm folded across her torso, the elbow of the other arm resting on it, and her chin resting on her other hand, looking like she was thinking. She was poised on the balls of her feet, like she was ready to spring at any moment. "Yeah, well, now that you've found me, could you kindly piss off?" she asked, forcing a strained, polite smile onto her face.

"Can't an old friend just visit?" Roland asked. "It's been about two years." His gaze lingered on Griffin.

"What?" Griffin barked at him, his voice rising and his accent becoming more pronounced in his anger.

"It's been about a year since I've seen _you_," Roland replied. "Weren't you helping David?"

"It was a limited run," Griffin replied in clipped, angry tones. "He was more of a pain in my ass than anything else."

"He was pain in _your_ ass?" he barked. "That makes him a stick up mine."

"Good," Griffin smirked.

"Now, enough small talk," Roland said, holding up his electric weapon.

"I was really hoping those had proved defective," Rane groaned, eyeing the weapon warily.

"No, they haven't," Roland said, glancing down at it and shaking his head. He looked up at her with an evil glint in his eyes. "Would you like to experience its power firsthand?" Almost instantly, the weapon shot out its electric wires, heading straight for the spot where Rane had been, but she was gone. Griffin smirked and jumped into Rane's bedroom before Roland could aim for him. She wasn't there.

He jumped to the kitchen, and there she was, holding a knife. "Grab one, Griff," she told him carefully, keeping her blue eyes trained on the entrance to the kitchen. He grabbed one and stood beside her.

"I say we come at him at the same time," he muttered.

She nodded, so briefly that he almost missed it in his peripheral vision. "He's still in the living room. We jump in on the count of three, take care of Roland and then jump to where I first met you, okay?" He nodded back, so she started counting down. "One… two…"

Griffin, however, didn't wait for three, and jumped as soon as she said two. "Griffin!" she cried, and then she heard the sound of electric wires crackling. A thump sounded as a body fell to the ground, that body most likely being Griffin's. She sighed and shook her head. "Men."

She jumped into the entrance to the living room, taking in the scene before her before she jumped again.

Griffin was tangled up in the electric wires, writhing on the ground in pain, the knife he had been holding on the floor. Roland was standing over him, giving his usual spiel about being an abomination and brandishing the knife he always used to kill Jumpers.

_Perfect_, she thought to herself, and grinned.

From the entrance to the living room, she jumped back into the kitchen, concentrating on the path she would take. She knew she didn't have much time to think or plan; Griffin didn't have much time. Within a few seconds, her mind was made up and she jumped back to the entrance to the living room. She jumped several times from there in such rapid succession that Roland didn't even see her, bent over his knife as he was.

Griffin did notice, but only barely, and he did nothing to give it away, merely flicking his eyes to the side, as if wondering where she was several times. She finally materialized in front of Roland and sidekicked him in the stomach, sending him flying backwards into the living room wall. He was knocked out upon his head's impact with the wall. The knife fell to the floor, but she ignored it, grasping her own even more tightly. She jumped again so she was standing right over him, and she slowly drew the knife across his left cheek, then the other, producing deep, bleeding gashes that she knew would scar. The gashes were jagged, like lightning bolts.

"Let everyone know," she muttered, fingering one of the gashes and examining the blood on her finger, "that this is what happens when you mess with Lightning. You've taken enough things from me, enough things that I loved."

With a cry of anger, she rammed the knife into his shoulder for good measure. She watched in satisfaction as blood blossomed from the wound, before she turned on her heel to Griffin. She picked up Roland's knife and used it to cut him free. She threw the knife to the ground and hauled him unceremoniously to his feet, then jumped him to Ireland before he could say a word.

Griffin waited until they were checked into a hotel room before blurting out, "Why didn't you kill him?"

Chuckling, she sat down on the foot of the bed, before realizing that there was only one. She decided to bring up the bed issue later; Griffin had more pressing questions. "Roland is the only Paladin brave enough to bring teams of Paladins after me," she replied, getting up and going to the bathroom to wash her hands of Roland's blood. Griffin followed her, leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed.

"So?" he asked, clearly irritated. "Your point?"

"If I kill him off, teams start coming after me," she pointed out. "Roland scared off all the other Paladins with his stories about me, and whichever ones weren't scared shitless, he made back off. I won't kill Roland until I take out all the Paladins he has at his disposal, or unless my hand is forced."

"Wasn't your hand forced back there, with me?" Griffin asked softly, sounding as though he were no longer angry.

She turned to face him, her blue eyes piercing. "No. There's usually another way, besides killing Roland. Obviously there was, because I rescued you and didn't kill him."

"Point taken," Griffin said, shrugging. He glanced back at the bedroom. "There's only one bed."

"I know," she sighed, drying her hands on a towel. "But the girl behind the counter said this was the only free room."

"All right, you can have the bed, I'll sleep on the floor," Griff said, running a hand through his hair with a sigh.

"Screw gallantry," she told him with a fierce scowl. "We can share the bed. I don't mind. Do you?" She raised a single black eyebrow at him, as if challenging him.

"No, no, I don't mind," he managed to choke out.

"Good," she said, nodding her head sharply. "I think I'm going to sleep now."

"But we just woke up about an hour ago!" he protested.

She flashed him a small smile. "But I'm beat. Besides, the time change. It's still really early morning here." Without another word, she crawled into bed, pulling the covers up to her chin and closed her blue eyes. Sensing that he was watching her, she turned onto her side, so that her back was facing him, and muttered, "Piss off, Griff."

He sighed and crawled into bed on the other side, afraid that if he got too close to her, he'd be invading her personal space. When he was sure that she was asleep, he watched her carefully, mulling over his thoughts of the past day.

He had felt such strong jealousy when she told him that she had been gone so long to check up on two men, but such relief when she revealed that they were just best friends. Why should he care?

And when Roland had first appeared, Griffin's first instinct had been to protect her, but he soon discovered that she didn't need protecting. In fact, he found himself wanting to impress her.

Why should he want to protect her? He had only known her for a month, why should he care?

_But she's the only friend you've ever had_, an annoying voice inside his head pointed out.

He groaned, slapping his hand to his forehead. The urge to protect her had been much stronger than the urge to protect a friend should ever be. He got the feeling that if she died, he'd die.

Maybe it was just gallantry. In fact, he convinced himself that it was. Griffin knew he could be an asshole, but asshole or no, he could still be gallant. Even if he wasn't a hero. "Yeah, that's it," he muttered.

"Talking to yourself, are you, Griff?" Rane asked, stirring and sitting up, her blue eyes piercing the darkness.

He was startled to see that she was awake. He had been so sure that she was asleep. "Er… maybe," he answered lamely, taken aback by her sudden movements. "Sorry, I thought you were asleep."

"Having trouble falling asleep," she replied. "Turns out, I'm not as beat as I thought I was."

He managed to flash her a grin in the darkness, before realizing that she probably couldn't see it. Then his grin faltered; there was something he had been meaning to ask about. "I heard what you said to Roland," he muttered softly, just barely audibly.

"Sorry, didn't catch that."

He cleared his throat, then repeated, "I heard what you said to Roland."

"What part of it?" she asked, sounding like her mouth had gone dry.

"All of it," he replied. "But I'm especially curious about the part of him taking away everything you've loved."

She was silent for a moment, and she was grateful that he couldn't see her blush in the dark. "He took away my brother… as I see it, he took away my best friends… he took away my last four partners… I wasn't going to let him get to you, Griffin."

"I…" he said, at a loss for words, "I'm... something you love?"

A long silence fell upon them, before Rane finally answered, "Yes. I can't lose you, Griff."

He didn't know what made him do it, but he reached out and cupped her cheek with a hand, his thumb stroking the soft skin of her face. He heard her suck in a deep breath as a jolt of electricity seemed to pass through them both. Griffin had thought this before, but his recent experiences with electricity provided confirmation. This kind felt… good, not torturous. He scooted closer to her, leaning toward her with his head titled to the side. Their breath mingled, and Griffin was so close to her that he could see the scar on her face, even in the darkness. He made a strangled grunt of anger in the back of his throat before he pressed his lips to hers forcefully, her mouth soft and warm against his.

She remained frozen for a few seconds, and he began to wonder if this is what she wanted. Perhaps she meant she loved him like a brother.

But then she began to respond, her lips moving against his with equal ferocity. Her arms looped around his neck, as she gently hauled herself onto his lap. He parted her lips with his tongue, exploring the cavern of her mouth with almost frightening possessiveness. She moaned into him, as his hand wandered from her cheek down to the small of her back and under her shirt.

When the need for air became absolute, he parted from her lips reluctantly, leaning his head back against the headboard, panting for breath. "Rane, I… I'm sorry," he finally stammered out, unsure of what he should say. "I'm sorry if I forced you into that. Sorry."

"You said sorry three times," she pointed out, stifling her laughter. "Don't worry about it, Griffin. If you had forced me into it, you'd be deep in the Arctic Ocean right now."

He chuckled, running a hand through his hair and not doubting her for a moment. "So… what does this mean… for us?" he asked, knowing that they were both reluctant to love another person, given their previous experiences.

"I don't know about you, but I won't let fear of Roland keep me from being happy," she replied, her voice muffled, and he assumed she had her face buried into her pillow. "Therefore, it means," she said slowly, lifting her head from the pillow so that her voice was clearer, "that we need to be more careful."


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: I own nothing

**A/N: I own nothing. Thanks for all the reviews, please keep it up!**

Chapter 4

When Griffin woke the next morning, there was a startling lack of Rane in the bed. Her side of the bed was messy and unmade, and the clock on the nightstand read 10:34 a.m. He sleepily crawled out of bed and stumbled toward the bathroom, but she wasn't there either. His gray eyes widened, as he realized that she was nowhere to be found.

His mind was a swirl of thoughts.

Had Roland come for her in her sleep?

Had he scared her away by kissing her last night, and then draping his arm around her body as he drifted off into sleep?

He was about to start worrying, when she jumped back into the room, the shimmer of a jump scar showing in the air. "There you are!" he cried, doing his best to glare at her. "Where the bloody hell were you, Rane?"

"Relax, Griff," she said, laughing. "You look like you were about to blow a capillary."

"Where _were _you?" he repeated, adding a scowl to his angry demeanor.

She shrugged. "Checking on Andrew and Christopher again," she replied. "Roland's sudden appearance freaked me out. It made me worry that he had found something. I had to check on them again."

"So you left in the middle of the bloody _night_?" he asked in frustration, throwing his arms up in the air.

"It struck me in the middle of the night," she replied defensively, an angry glint in her icy blue eyes. "I couldn't sleep; I _had_ to, Griffin."

"But _why_?" he demanded. "Don't I matter to you, Rane? You just left me all alone!"

She looked as if he had just slapped her. "Of _course_ you matter to me, Griffin," she replied quietly, looking hurt and angry at the same time. "But Andrew and Christopher, whether they think I'm dead or not, matter to me too. And you, I know _you_ can take care of yourself if Paladins come after you. But they won't know what's hit them. I have to take care of them. Other than you, they're the only people I care about in this world, and I _won't_ let them die, too. There's a smaller chance of losing you than losing them."

He said nothing, but watched as she walked away slowly to the other side of the hotel room. When she was about three quarters across the room, he finally made up his mind.

He jumped to her, seizing her face with his strong hands and claiming her lips with his own. She moaned against him in appreciation, her arms looping around his neck possessively. She parted his lips with her tongue, eager to taste him again. He moaned and his eyes flew open in surprise, before he closed them again and turned them both around, slamming her rather roughly against the wall. He kept her pinned there with his own body, but pulled away slightly, panting, "Why haven't you jumped away? Why aren't you running?"

She glared at him as best as she could manage under the circumstances, and replied, "Griffin, if I didn't want you to be kissing me, I would've jumped the minute you appeared in front of me."

He pressed his lips to her again, sliding his thigh between her legs so that she was straddling it. She gasped and leaned forward against him, pulling her lips from his and kissing his neck. When she nipped at the skin of his neck, he moaned her name loudly, "Rane." She grinned against his skin, and kept kissing his neck, her hands wandering from the back of his neck to his lower back. "When I woke up and you were gone… I was so worried," he admitted, moaning aloud again when she sucked at the spot where his neck met his shoulder. "I thought… maybe Roland had come and took you away to get to me. Or maybe that I scared you off last night, kissing you like that."

At this, she pulled away from his neck and chuckled, "Griffin, it'll take more than some spontaneous kissing to scare me off. And I understand your being angry with me. I would've been furious if you left in the middle of the night, to be honest with you. And no offense, Griffin, but you have the tendency to be…"

"An asshole?" he supplied, chuckling. "Yeah, I know." Pulling slightly further away from her, he muttered, "I'm sorry I said that."

"Said what?"

"I'm sorry I asked if you cared about me. I know you do, I just… I don't know," he said, shaking his head.

She scrutinized his face for a moment, her face emotionless and blank. Then a knowing, cocky grin spread over her face. "Oh, I get it," she said, grinning even wider, if that was at all possible.

"What?" he asked sharply, worried by the mischievous look on her face.

"You're _jealous_," she said, emphasizing the last word and poking him playfully in the chest.

"I am _not_," he said firmly, scowling and stepping away from her, allowing her to stand on her own two feet again. She brushed herself off, straightening out her clothes.

"You are," she said, smirking at him triumphantly. "Did you think I missed the look on your face back at my apartment when I first told you that I had gone check up on Christopher and Andrew? I most certainly did not. You were jealous, even then. And when I told you they were just my best friends, you looked so damn relieved, it took all I had not to burst into laughter right then and there. You were jealous this morning, because I left you to check on them."

"Shut up," he growled at her. "Just shut up."

"All right, all right," she said, holding her hands up in defense. "I'll stop saying it. But that doesn't make it not true."

He glared at her, as she smiled back at him smugly and laid down on the bed, grabbing the remote and turning the television on. Sighing, he sat at the foot of the bed, staying a good three feet away from her on the king-size bed. After about twenty minutes of this, Rane cracked a grin at him, and said, "Good God, Griff. You have more mood swings than a PMSing woman."

"What the bloody hell are you talking about?" he scowled at her.

"I shut up about it _ages_ ago," she said, faking a British accent. "And still you refuse to come near me." She faked a sniff. "I guess I'll just have to… leave for a few days. Let you get over your ego."

He snorted and rolled his gray eyes at her, knowing she was just joking. However, he scooted back on the bed so that he was lying down right next to her, their arms brushed.

She sighed wearily, thinking, _Men._ She laid her head on his chest and snuggled up to him. He looked down at her, surprised, but wrapped an arm around her nevertheless.

Just then, someone jumped into their room.

David.

He opened his mouth to speak, but closed it when he saw them holding each other. He blushed faintly and said, "Oh… I'm sorry. I didn't mean to… interrupt something."

"It's fine, David," Rane said.

"No, it most certainly bloody is not," Griffin growled, his grip on Rane's shoulder tightening. "What the bloody hell are you doing here, idiot?"

Rane elbowed him sharply in the ribs. "Don't be such an asshole," she advised.

"I was just wondering… have you heard from the Paladins lately?" David asked, looking nervous.

"Yeah, in fact, Roland attacked us at her apartment yesterday," Griffin replied. "Is that all you wanted? I wish you'd sod off."

"It was all too quiet… Millie's on a business trip in France for a month, so I'm checking on her just about daily," David replied quietly. "Lightning, could you… could you help me check on her?"

She exchanged a glance with Griffin, who raised his eyebrows at David's calling her 'Lightning.' Shaking her head to indicate that she'd explain later, she told David, "No. I'm trying to stay _off_ the radar for a while, and I'm pretty sure jumping to France every other day is pretty _on_ the radar."

"Lightning, please," he said, pleading with her now.

"No," she said forcefully. "You seem to be handling it just fine."

"But I thought with your help… I could…" he said, his voice trailing off.

"Make sure she was absolutely safe?" Rane finished for him, and he nodded. She shook her head in response, saying, "Sorry, but I've got my own normal people to look after, David."

"I won't leave 'til you say 'yes'," he said defiantly, crossing his arms.

Rane glanced at Griffin, who rolled his gray eyes at David. "David, trust me, mate- you're going to regret this," he told him.

David shrugged, so Rane extracted herself from Griffin's arms and made her way over to him. "You Jumper men are all the same. Stubborn," she groaned. She grasped his arm, and waved her free hand in the air, screwing her eyes up in concentration. Griffin saw the shimmer of the new jump scar and briefly wondered where she was sending him. "Sorry, David, but you've got to go," she told him. "See you."

She shoved him through the jump scar, prying his fingers off of her. "What other Jumper men have you known?" Griffin asked. The words were out of his mouth as soon as David was gone, before he could stop himself.

"My previous four partners," she sighed. Seeing the look on his face, she explained, "I love them all, but like brothers, Griff."

"Oh," he said simply, feeling relieved. "What were their names?"

"First was Jake," she replied. "Then Kasey, Sepp, and Derek."

He didn't pry any further, not wanting to ask how they had all died. Finally, he broke the silence by saying, "So the Paladins are being especially quiet."

"And not just to us," she muttered. She began to pace about the room, before turning to him sharply and telling him, "This worries me."

"Why?" he shrugged, leaning back against the headboard of the bed. "Maybe they're finally running low in numbers."

"Not likely," she replied doubtfully. "I highly suspect that they're planning something… this scares the shit out of me." She sat down on the foot of the bed again, and he scooted toward her so that he was sitting right next to her, and his arm snaked around her waist.

"What do you think it could possibly be?" he questioned, looking at her with curious gray eyes.

Her blue eyes met his gray ones. "I have no idea, Griff. That's what scares me."

There was a sudden knock at the door, and Rane jumped from her seated on the position on the bed, poised on the balls of her feet, her hands clenched into fists. Standing, Griffin chuckled, patting her on the shoulder. "Relax," he advised her. "I'm sure it's just the maids or something."

"Better safe than sorry," she replied, watching him warily as he made his way toward the door.

He peered through the peephole, and turned back to her with a confused look on his face. "Well, it's not the maid," he muttered to her. "It's a man, but he's certainly not a Paladin. He looks like he slept about three hours in the past two days."

"What does he look like?" she demanded, still in her battle stance.

"He's got… brownish blonde hair… and blue eyes," he replied, peering through the peephole again. "He's a little scrawny, but looks like he works out. Actually, he's wearing a New York Yankees t-shirt."

She completely let her guard down at this and sprinted to the door, pushing him out of the way and peering in through the peephole. She couldn't believe what she saw in the front of her. Sure, _she_ had seen the man within the past few days, but _he_ hadn't seen her for nine years! Unable to think of anything else to do, she yanked the door open.

Upon seeing her, the man smiled broadly, and said, "Rane!"

She merely gaped at him, before she managed to choke out, "Christopher?!"


End file.
